Just Another Victim
by Punky Misfit
Summary: Sequel to Just Another Mystery. Brennan and Booth struggle to deal with the powerful withdrawal symptoms of the drugs he was inflicted with, all while learning that they still aren't safe from the group's clutches.
1. Chapter 1

"_Come on, sweetie. The night's young. Drink up!"_

_FBI Agent Seeley Booth looked away from the bar top where his now drained glass sat, cold and still retaining some of the suds his beer left behind. The dark eyes of his girlfriend, Natalie, were shining back at him. Or maybe it was from the lights overhead. He couldn't be sure anymore. He squinted at her to get a better look._

"_What?" She laughed, pushing his chest gently._

_Booth had had too much to drink. Not that he was drunk. No. After the violence he faced from his drunk father during his childhood he didn't get drunk. Refused. But Natalie had taken him beyond his limit. He was tipsy. There was no denying that._

"_Nothing." He mumbled. "Just tired." It was true. All he felt like was crawling to his bed. Perhaps with her?_

_Booth had been assigned by the FBI to infiltrate a group of ex military men who harbored a deep resentment for their country after the way they'd been treated when they'd arrived home from the ongoing war in Iraq. To demonstrate their unhappiness they'd formed a terrorist group, and set themselves on carrying out plans to bomb many federal buildings and monuments. It was Booth's job to collect evidence and present the information back to the FBI. _

_He'd created a whole new persona. Usually he worked murder cases with his partner and best friend, Dr. Temperance Brennan. It was because of her he'd done his best to cover his tracks. He loved her. The last thing he wanted was for her to get hurt if his identity was uncovered. And it already had._

_Natalie, also a part of the group, had ambushed him at work no more than a month ago. The woman was sneaky. She'd managed to poke through his façade and research his true past. With the information she'd confronted him. Booth didn't deny it. After all they'd been standing in his office at the bureau. Luckily, she hadn't cared about his fake identity. She didn't believe in the group's intentions either. It was only because of her brother, who headed up the group, that she'd joined. And so she kept his secret quiet._

"_C'mon!" She tugged on his arm. To the bar tender she turned. "Two more!"_

"_Nat," he said in a soft, warning tone._

_She'd silenced him with his kiss. He straightened, his breathing picking up as she slid her hands over his body. Gently he took a hold of her wrists. "I think you're drunk," he chuckled._

_In response she rubbed her body up against his. "You know what? Screw this place. Lets go back to your apartment."_

_He knew what she wanted. And truthfully, he wouldn't mind a release either after the day he'd had. It was Brennan who'd he wanted to come out that night. The two had a tradition of going out for a drink after finishing a case. And the one they'd just finished had been a real doozy. But Brennan had declined to tend to work she'd been neglecting. Booth had acted fine with it. She had a life, at least a work life, outside of him. But really, Natalie had been his second choice. He'd only wanted to share the stress he was under with Brennan._

_Natalie took his hand. He hopped off the stool he'd been sitting on and followed her. However, instead of going to the front door she headed out back._

"_What're we doing?" Booth slurred slightly._

_She only wiggled her eyebrows and kept walking. He was in no state to really argue. He didn't really care._

_In the back alley she tugged him out, shutting the door behind him. Natalie forcefully pushed him back against the brick wall of the bar. The rough sandiness of the bricks itched at his skin. It was soon forgotten as her mouth seized his. She sucked his lower lip into his mouth, biting it with her teeth._

_Booth still wasn't used to her being so sexually aggressive._

_When her hand rode up underneath his shirt and over the muscles in his stomach, despite how good it felt he knew he needed to stop her. "Nat, wait." He backed up. "We can't do this here."_

"_Why not?"_

_He looked at her pointedly._

"_Fine." She sighed. "Wait right here."_

"_Wait!" He exclaimed as she walked away. "Neither one of us can drive!"_

_Natalie disappeared around the corner._

_She had no more vanished before he heard the sound of someone gunning an engine. He turned to have a pair of headlights catch his eyes. A car was bearing down on him._

_***_

Booth woke with a start. His body nearly jerked out of the seat he was sitting in. Had it not been for the seatbelt, he probably would have. Head to toe his body trembled. His shoulders heaved as he breathed in quick breaths.

"You all right?"

He glanced up to find Brennan watching him worriedly. The two were sitting in her car as they sat in traffic. They were on the way to see his doctor.

"Yeah," he murmured breathlessly.

Brennan knew he wasn't. He'd been having horrible dreams and flashbacks since he'd been let out of the hospital. Though he wouldn't tell her about any of it. She'd just barely managed to convince him to let her stay and take care of him.

His symptoms in part came from the drugs he'd been given while in captivity. The group had kept him under using ecstasy laced with a sleeping pill to keep him in a calm, pleasurable state. They'd given him too much, and nearly ended his life. Reliving finding him locked up in the cold basement dead was a nightmare Brennan quite often had.

The withdrawal from the drugs were causing severe physiological effects. Hence why they were heading to the doctor. Until the symptoms lapsed his doctor wanted him checked every week.

She frowned sadly as he laid his head back against the seat and looked directly out the passenger window. She didn't think she'd ever been more worried about him. Booth had difficulty sleeping. He was hardly eating. Panic attacks seemed to catch him at random times. The rest of the time he was simply depressed. He kept to himself a lot.

At last they arrived at the doctor's office. Together they went inside and sat down in the waiting room. After what felt like hours they were called inside to a room. It took another fifteen minutes for the doctor to arrive and see him.

Booth was apathetic as his doctor poked and prodded his body. The only reaction he gave off was when the doctor applied pressure to the area where Booth had a broken rib. He breathed in through his teeth.

His doctor, Dr. Adler, frowned. "I think I might request some more x-rays of your ribs. I'll give it one more week. In the mean time I could prescribe you some medicine for the pain."

Booth was quick to shake his head.

Brennan was expecting that answer. She hadn't been able to get him to take so much as an aspirin. She could only figure that after overdosing on drugs he was concerned about taking anything.

Dr. Adler moved onto his withdrawal symptoms. Booth answered his questions honestly, but not in too much detail.

"I can give you something to lessen the effects the panic attacks are having on you. Might help you to sleep, as well."

Again, Booth declined.

On their way out Dr. Adler stopped Brennan. Booth, oblivious, kept on walking.

The doctor lowered his voice. "He isn't doing well, is he?"

"He's just not himself." Brennan agreed.

"Call me middle of the week and report to me how he's doing."

Brennan nodded. She met up with Booth in the parking lot. He was leaning back against her car. His head was down, and his shoulders were shaking once again.

"Booth?" She hurried to his side.

"Can I.. can I just have a minute, Bones?"

"Booth, you can't do this on your own."

"Bones," he repeated, his tone unexplainably angry.

Reluctantly she backed off.

After a few minutes he got into the passenger side of her car. She climbed in. The two shared a silent glance. Booth looked as awful as he seemed to feel. Even his eyes weren't bright as they usually were.

Finally he was the first one to turn away. Brennan turned the key in the ignition. All the way home she racked her brain. This couldn't go on. What could she do for him?


	2. Chapter 2

Brennan still didn't have a single answer by the time they arrived back at Booth's apartment. He trudged ahead of her, carefully maneuvering his injured body upstairs. Inside he took his coat off and hung it up.

"Are you hungry?" Brennan tried, closing the door behind her.

"Not really."

"I could make coffee." Or so she thought. Did she know how to work a coffee maker?

"No. I just want to lay down." Without a single glance behind him he went into his bedroom. He quietly shut the door. Before crawling into bed he changed from street clothes into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Then he cautiously laid himself down in between his soft mattress and comfy blankets. Lately his bed had practically become a second home to him. He spent more time there in the isolated dark more than anywhere else.

Booth gazed up at the ceiling and exhaled. Sleep wouldn't find him. He already knew that. And when and if it did he'd just wake after an hour or so, heart raging from a frightening nightmare. He hated this. All of his life he'd faced some sort of adversity. But he'd always been able to let it roll off. Sure, he'd feel whatever downward emotion that struck him. Usually though within a few days he'd bounce back to being himself. Only not this time.

It was in part because of the drugs, he knew. In the hospital they'd been able to control his symptoms. Now out on his own he was finding out how difficult it truly was. His body was still going through a sort of detox. Though it was his mind that was taking the most beating. Every day it was something different. Sometimes he'd have unprovoked bouts of anger. Other times the world slipped away into almost a dream like state. Nothing felt real. The panic attacks were by far the worst. There were still times in which he was sure he was dying; that his heart was going to explode in his chest.

Booth rolled over onto his good side, the one without the broken rib. Not that any of him felt the greatest. He still wore injuries from where the group had beat him unconscious. It was another reoccurring nightmare, being restrained while different grown men took their shots at him. Knowing that their former friend was in all actuality a federal agent had made them hit harder. It was a surprise they hadn't killed him right then and there.

He shuddered just thinking about it. Feeling helpless was not something a strong man like him experienced often.

At times he found himself wishing he could be back on the ecstasy. It was something he wouldn't admit to anyone. He could barely admit it to himself. But he longed for that place of pleasure. The place where he didn't care about anything. No responsibility.

And he absolutely hated himself for such thoughts.

Again, he knew it wasn't his fault. It was his mind being skewed. But sometimes he worried it _wasn't _just his brain, that he really had such a desire.

Booth closed his eyes at last, hoping to seek peace.

_Just as the car roared to life Natalie came back around the corner. "Natalie!" Booth yelled. He ran towards her, pushing her behind him._

_Everything that happened next was a blur. Booth found himself laying down in the street, broken and in pain. A sharpness stabbed into his side. He could taste blood in his mouth. Spitting, he laid completely still. Slowly he was beginning to lose consciousness._

_The car that had struck him had backed up. It sat idling, Booth caught in its headlights. He had to get up. A gut feeling told him this was no accident. Someone was after him. For all he knew they intended to run him down dead._

_Weakly he tried to push himself up to his feet. Behind him he could hear the clicking of heels._

"_Stay down!" Natalie hissed as she dropped down besides him._

_He looked at her in confusion. How did she know?_

_The truth abruptly hit him. This was an attack. A violent one. And Natalie had set it up. He glared at her. She looked away, tears falling from her cheeks._

_Tom and a bunch of his flunkies got out of the car. Into his hand the leader of the group tapped a baseball bat. Booth attempted to reach for his gun. It was only then he discovered his wrist was dislocated. Wincing, he took his other hand and retrieved it._

_Natalie snatched it out of his hand before he could stop her. His reflexes were dulled._

"_I'm so sorry," she whispered as the gang drew close._

Booth jerked straight up into a sitting position. He lowered his head while his heavy, out of control breathing washed over him. "I can't live like this," he muttered to himself, climbing out of bed.

***

Meanwhile, Brennan was busying herself by tidying up what she could of his apartment. After he'd disappeared federal agents had searched his place looking for clues on what had happened to him. They'd left behind a mess Brennan swore she'd clean up. For the most part everything was spotless. But she intended to have it back to the way he'd left it.

A knock on the door startled her. She left her spot in the kitchen and went to his front door.

"It's me!" A voice rang out.

A voice Brennan detested. She opened to find Natalie standing in the hallway. Brennan could barely keep herself civil. "Hi."

"Is he here?" Natalie craned her neck past her.

"He doesn't want to talk to you."

Natalie wasn't going to be deterred. "This is important."

"He doesn't want to see you," Brennan repeated.

"Dr. Brennan, you don't understand! This is a matter of life or-"

She wasn't about to hear it. "He's suffering because of what you took part in."

"Please, _please._ I have to see him."

"What do you want?"

Booth walked up next to Brennan. His expression was suspicious.

"Can we speak privately?" She requested.

"No. Whatever you have to say, just say it."

She bit down hard on her lower lip. Booth began to wonder what he'd ever seen in her. She was a coward, and he had just been too blind to see it. But still, at one time he had really been in love with her.

"Tom's not in jail."

Booth and Brennan exchanged a worried look. "What do you mean?"

"I just found out. I assumed he'd been arrested with everyone else. But he wasn't at the house when everything went down."

"How'd you find out?" Brennan inquired.

"He called me. I tried to trace the number but he had it call blocked." She took a tentative step towards Booth. "He's after you."

"He told you?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you go to the police with this information?" Brennan retorted. She still didn't trust the woman as far as she could throw her.

"I wanted to tell you, first."

"Well, thanks." Booth strode away. His heart was pounding in his ears.

"Rodney!" She cried after him, using his fake name.

Booth went into his bedroom and stood still.

_Natalie sighed softly while Booth left soft kisses on her neck. His hands caressed their way over her body. The two were laying in his bed together. Their clothes laid in a pile on his bedroom floor._

_She ran a hand through his hair, tugging his face back to hers. "I want you," she said softly in his ear._

_Booth responded as any man would. He moved himself up on top of her. For a minute he looked down, just admiring her beauty. "I love you," he murmured, meaning it._

Booth punched at the wall. What had he been thinking? She'd been a sham.

He knew exactly what he had been thinking. Natalie had come off as a damsel in distress. Booth had wanted nothing more than to save her.

Who knew he really should have been trying to save himself?

Another powerful attack of anxiety gripped his body. His muscles contracted. He reached out and flattened his palm against the wall for balance. He couldn't breathe. Gasping, he rubbed at his chest. The beat of his heart had increased in its intensity. Once again he couldn't help thinking he was really having a heart attack.

The room spun. Walls were closing in. Booth was losing his balance. He fell down onto his bed, rolling onto his back. The sound of wind rushed through his ears, blocking out all other sound. Good God. He _was _dying.

After a few seconds a face appeared in his line of vision. Brennan. She was saying something but he couldn't make out the words. "I can't breathe," he choked.

She stayed with him while the attack took its toll. It felt like it took hours before it ended. Booth's breathing began to find a regular, slow rhythm. The bright red color in his features faded away. His body stopped trembling while his eyes fluttered closed.

"Booth?" Brennan asked fearfully.

"I'm…" He couldn't even get "all right" out.

"Don't tell me you're fine," she snapped. "I know you're not. Booth, we can't stay here."

"Why?" His voice was tired.

"Because Tom wants to kill you! If he found out you're a federal agent I'm sure he can find out where you live."

"I'm not leaving, Bones."

"Booth, you're being irrational."

"I'm not leaving," he insisted, closing his eyes. "No one's chasing me out of my apartment."

Brennan exhaled, holding back frustrated tears. She had to convince him. Somehow, she had to.


	3. Chapter 3

She stayed with him as he drifted off. His muscles that had remained tense even after the attack ended softened. The room was still except for the soft sound of his breathing as he slept. Brennan carefully put a blanket over his body.

She didn't leave right away. Instead she opted to watch over him. Booth wouldn't sleep long before he'd wake, she knew. Since coming home she couldn't remember the last time he'd been able to sleep more than a few hours. Up at night she could hear him stumbling around his room.

Time and time again she'd offered him a sleeping aid. He always snubbed it with no reasoning. "I wish you'd let me help you," she murmured out loud. "I wish you'd let _somebody _help you."

***

_The foot steps grew louder as the group deemed closer. Tom set Booth in his sights. "Traitor!" He spit._

"_What? What are you talking about?"_

"_We know who you really are, Agent Booth." One of the other men sneered._

_Booth looked up at Natalie in shock. She'd betrayed him. He'd done nothing but try to shield her from the horrors of what her brother was capable of, and she'd sold him out._

"_No!" She insisted. "It wasn't me." Crying, she smoothed her hand over his cheek. "I don't know how they found out but they did."_

_He tried to move his head away from her touch but found the action was painful. "You set this up."_

"_That's right," Tom said in a sing-song voice. He took the bat and swung it as hard as he could at Booth's rib cage. There was a definite crack followed by a bright flash of pain. Booth winced. He shut his eyes tightly. There was no way this was going to end well._

_He heard Natalie scream as she was led off by a few other of Tom's men. Then he could hear them taking out their anger on her as well. Really? Tom was savage enough to beat his own sister? What did that mean for him?_

_There were plenty of other blows. Booth took them all, not saying a word or making a sound. The pain was almost unreal. After a hit to the forehead, he finally felt nothing at all._

_***_

It was Booth's breathing that indicated something was wrong. His breathing always became shallow and hard. In his sleep he winced. He squirmed, wiggling underneath the blanket.

Brennan knew she needed to wake him. "Booth," she tried.

He was becoming more and more agitated.

"Booth? Wake up!"

She was ready to shake him when he woke on his own with a strange half yell. Gasping, he saw her sitting next to him and instantly turned his head away. Uncontrollably he began trembling.

"Booth, it's okay. It's over."

He felt a surge of anger. "No, it isn't!" The blanket was thrown aside as he kicked himself out of bed. "It's never going to end."

Brennan didn't understand.

Booth paced back and forth like the mad man he felt like. "You don't get it, Bones. You weren't there. You don't know what it felt like."

He was falling apart right before her. And she didn't know what to do about it. Booth just wasn't himself. And emotions were never her strong suit. As hard as it was she tried to listen to herself as to what to do. "Booth-"

He cut her off before she could even attempt to comfort him. His words were rapid fire. "Nothing hurt. _Nothing. _Not physically or emotionally. I didn't care about anything. And sometimes, I want to go back to that." He stopped and looked at her. "What kind of man does that make me?"

"Booth, this isn't you. This is the drugs talking. You're recovering from what should have been a fatal dose-"

He continued on like he didn't hear her. Once again he moved back and forth across the floor. "They're gonna find me. Tom's still after me. Who knows if all of his men were arrested."

"Why isn't Natalie in jail?"

"I don't know!" He sputtered. "I don't care."

Brennan did. But this wasn't the time to address it.

A wave of dizziness finally forced Booth to stop pacing. He held onto his dresser. Down to the floor he dropped his gaze. Nearly inaudible, he admitted, "I don't want to feel like this anymore, Bones."

She sprang into action. Cautiously she stood next to him. "I know you're hurting."

"You don't understand-"

It was her turn to interrupt him. "I know. But you need rest." She took a hold of his hand. "_Real _rest."

He looked back into her eyes. At last he was listening.

"Please, Booth. Just take a sleeping pill."

Already he was shaking his head. "What if I become addicted?"

"They're natural. Melatonin, which you already have in your body. Everybody does." Strategically she now took his other hand into hers. "Booth, you were drugged under duress. It doesn't mean you're an addict, or will become one."

At her words he let out a shivering breath.

"This is how I know how to help you. It won't make everything better. But it's a start."

Reluctantly, at long last, he obliged.

Brennan led him into the living room. She laid him down across his couch. With a blanket over him and the television on, she left him long enough to retrieve the pills she'd purchased.

Two tablets she gave to him along with a glass of water. He stared at the pills halfheartedly.

"I promise, Booth."

Nodding, he bit the bullet and swallowed both down. Her promise was good enough for him. After a good half an hour he had dozed off. Brennan left him alone. She was glad he'd given in. His behavior had begun to scare her. Again, she knew it was the chemicals having their effects on him. Begging him for more. But that didn't make it any easier. How much worry was too much? Should she be concerned for his life? Though it was childish she wished such things as magic wands existed, and not just in fairy tales. She wished for anything to take his pain away.

The next few hours passed by peacefully. Booth slept a deep sleep without dreams. The sound of shattering glass was what at last woke him. Yawning, he pushed himself up on the couch. His back groaned in protest. Oh yeah. He'd be paying for this one.

The sound echoed in his ears. Where had it come from? Booth didn't see Brennan anywhere around him. Maybe she'd broken a glass? "Bones?" He questioned. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed his window was broken. He eased himself up for a closer inspection.

On the floor laid a canister. Booth knew what it was instantly. He ran away from the window. "Bones get-!"

The bomb exploded before he could finish his sentence, rocking the ground and letting out a brightly lit fireball of flames.


	4. Chapter 4

Brennan had been in Booth's kitchen when she heard him call out. She'd been crouching underneath his sink and hadn't noticed him get up. Just as she was straightening, ready to answer him, the explosion shook the walls. The pressure tossed her forward. Her forehead connected straight with the edge of the counter. The hit was just enough to render her unconscious.

She woke sometime later to the smell of smoke and blood. Her sight was foggy when she opened her eyes. It loitered in double vision for a while before clearing up completely. Black porous smoke lingered near the ceiling. Brennan crawled on her hands and knees into the living room.

Booth was laying, still unconscious, on the floor by the couch among what seemed like a wall of fire. Brennan panicked. She edged over to him. "Booth!"

He was face down. His head was tilted facing away from her. Desperate, she moved him onto his back. "Booth! Come on!" Her fingers quivered as she checked his pulse. He was still alive, but wouldn't be for long if she didn't get them out of there. The fire was closing in. Booth already wore some burns on his flesh. God only knew how much smoke they'd inhaled.

He wasn't reviving. It was all on her shoulders. Impulsively she slid her arms underneath his armpits and wrapped them around his chest. Towards the door she tugged him as hard as she could. It was quite the effort. But she got them out safely into the hall. There she collapsed down onto the floor besides him.

***

"You're lucky, Dr. Brennan."

Brennan held still while Dr. Javerick carefully stitched the area above her eye. The collision into the counter had left her with a concussion and six stitches above her eyebrow. Her lung capacity had been compromised by smoke inhalation. "I don't believe in luck," she grumbled.

"Well, whatever you believe in, you're lucky to be alive."

She didn't want to hear it. All she wanted was to check on Booth. Once she was certain he was all right, then she craved a bubble bath and a bottle of hard liquor. But she doubted he was fine.

Fire fighters and paramedics had found the two of them in the hall not long after Brennan had pulled them out. Booth had never woken. He'd been carried by stretcher to a waiting ambulance.

"Okay. All done." The doctor rolled his stool away from her.

"Where do I go now?"

Dr. Javerick stood. "What do you mean? You go home."

"My partner was brought in. Seeley Booth."

The doctor pondered over the situation. "Usually, they have you stand by in the waiting room. But let me see what I can find out." He disappeared behind the blue privacy curtain serving as a door for her treatment cubicle.

Brennan rose from the bed she'd been sitting on. She felt exhausted. And angry. Though she didn't know what happened she had her theories. The blast had to have been an attack from Tom. Or whatever was left of his group.

She had intense rage for them. She tried to keep herself from being mad at Booth. If he'd just listened to her and left this wouldn't have happened.

But then again who's to say it wouldn't just have happened somewhere else?

The curtain moved as Dr. Javerick poked his head back in. "They're just finishing. You can come sit with him if you like."

No one needed to invite her twice. She followed the doctor through the narrow hall, past cubicles where others like her were being treated. They left the unit they were on and ventured down into another. Her heart fell as she noticed the three call letters beckoning them in. ICU.

Booth was right in the first room. He was awake, but his eyes were heavy lidded. Underneath his eyes were dazed. Lost in a sea of confusion. Still, he beamed at her as though she were an angel coming into the room and not just his partner. "Hi, Bones," he slurred. He nudged the doctor who was adjusting what appeared to be a new cast on his wrist. "That's my Bones."

Brennan could only half smile at them. She stood back behind the doctor as so not to get in the way. "How is he?" She asked the doctor in a hesitant voice.

The doctor shook his head. "First and second degree burns. Smoke inhalation. Severe concussion. A couple of cracked ribs. The broken rib he had came close to puncturing his lung. He really needs to rest. I cannot stress this enough. It could mean his life if he doesn't."

Brennan's eyes snapped immediately to Booth. He was falling asleep, or unconscious. His head was leaning towards one side. His eyes would drift shut before he'd force them open again. "When can I go home?" His speech was so bad it was almost difficult to understand him.

"Go home?" Brennan repeated, dumb founded. "Booth, do you have any idea what happened? There was a fire caused by what I believe was a bomb."

"I know," he garbled. "So when can I go home?"

His doctor chuckled. "He hit his head pretty hard."

"Not staying here," he mumbled as his eyes shut again.

Brennan sighed. "Has anyone been in touch with the FBI?"

"I informed them of Agent Booth's condition and your suspicions. The police had already called them to do a thorough sweep of his apartment. I was told agents are en route to stand guard here in front of his room."

Satisfied, Brennan went to Booth's side. Lovingly she took a hold of his hand. He pushed his eyes open once more. He could only get them open half way. But it was just enough for each of them to see what they needed to. Booth saw she was there. Brennan saw he'd be all right. She could allow some of her guard to back down.

The doctor finished with Booth's wrist. He left them alone.

Brennan pulled up a chair and sat down. He observed her every move. Yet again his eyes kept threatening to close.

"Sleep," she tried to tell him. "I'm not going anywhere." Where could she go? There was no telling if Tom would be after her since she was Booth's partner. And while she was confident she could take care of herself she'd already witnessed first hand their power. If they could bring Booth down then there was a chance Brennan wouldn't be able to hold them off, either.

All in all, she wasn't going back to her apartment. And if she did, it was only to get a change of clothes.

"Bones," he breathed. Every time she heard the tough time he had speaking, her heart broke. He must have really done a number on his head. "I gotta tell you something. It's really, _really _important." He patted her hand to stress his point.

"What is it, Booth?"

"Don't let them give me pain killers."

She gawked at him. "Booth. You're _in _pain."

"I don't want 'em."

"You _need _them."

"Please, Bones." His eyes shut. For good, this time. "I don't wanna end up like him."

Confused, she asked, "like who?"

"My old man."

"Booth, he was addicted to alcohol. Nothing is going to happen to you."

His voice was light. Airy. "Same genes."

There would be no winning this argument with him. How does anyone win a fight with a half coherent man? "I won't let them," she unwillingly agreed. "But Booth, I promise you are nothing like him. You'll never be."

Booth was already snoring softly. Perhaps the only good out of this ordeal was at least now he'd be able to get some decent rest.

For a while she sat with him, thinking. She'd meant what she said. From what she knew of Booth's father the two were nothing alike. She just couldn't see Booth ever letting himself head down any path of that sort. His fear of such a thing happening only gave her confirmation and confidence.

After an hour or so he moved in his sleep straight onto his rib cage. His expression contorted. Brennan glanced up from her gaze at the floor when she heard his breathing speed up. He hissed through his teeth.

Brennan glanced at the cord leading into his bed from his IV bag and monitor. A button was attached. A button that distributed pain killers. A good moment passed while she debated with herself. Then with her mind made up, she whispered, "I'm sorry, Booth," and pressed the button.

After a minute he sighed and relaxed.

"I'm not letting you hurt yourself just to prove something we already know," she added.

From then on he slept peacefully.

Brennan took herself out into the hall. Agents had arrived by then. She nodded to them politely as she headed down into the elevator. Outside the hospital she powered on her cell phone. Then she dialed the Jeffersonian.

After a bunch of different operators she was at last connected with Cam. "I think you should tighten security at the lab."

"What? Why?"

Everyone knew of the trouble Booth had had with Tom's group. But they didn't know much else after he'd been released from the hospital. Brennan caught her up to speed. "If they came after him at his apartment there's no saying where they'll look for him next." She finished.

"I'll inform security immediately. Is he... is he bad?"

Once upon a time Booth and Cam had had a relationship. Sometimes for reasons Brennan couldn't explain her concern for him annoyed her. "No." She hung up.

She put her cell phone away back in her pocket. A cool night chill had enveloped her. In spread in through her clothes, causing her to shiver slightly. Over head the heavens shown down at her, stars twinkling through the dark sky. She let out a breath and watched the warm mist dissipate.

She wasn't ready to go back inside yet. And so she decided to take a walk around the hospital grounds. Anxiety over Booth was wracking her brain. _He'll be fine_, she assured herself. _He'll get better. He always does. _But how much more could he take? How far was Tom prepared to go?

Brennan rounded the back of the hospital. She could hear heavy footsteps somewhere in the vicinity around her. On a dime she stopped and listened closely. Whoever it was, they were behind her and approaching fast. She waited until they were just behind her before she whirled with a fierce karate kick. Her attacker crumpled down onto the grass.

More men were closing in on her. Too many for her to fight alone. Brennan backed away, unsure of her next move. All the men looked like they were hungry for blood. They had to be more members of Tom's group.

She found herself cornered in as they approached. Since she had no options she did what she could to ward off their fists and weapons. In the end it did little good. One of the men took custody of her in his arms from behind. Brennan fought furiously, but lost as a hit to the head knocked her out. She went limp in her captor's arms.

***

Booth was lingering on the edge of consciousness. A loud noise had woken him from the delicious sleep he'd been able to indulge in. Terrified voices drifted to his ears. Was he dreaming? No. At least he didn't think so.

A small circular object was suddenly pressed against his forehead. Groggily he opened up his eyes to see Tom standing over him. Against Booth's head he held a hand gun. Likely his own. "Hello, traitor."


	5. Chapter 5

Booth froze. He was trapped. He was defenseless, without a weapon or so much as even useful appendages. It seemed he was doomed. "Tom," he exhaled.

"Get up." He commanded.

Booth could barely sit up, much less _get _up. His movements were slow. Deliberate. Tom was going to kill him. That much was obvious. Maybe stalling would allow him enough time to think of a way out of this. How had Tom even gotten in? What happened to the agents standing by?

He pushed himself up into a seated position and fiddled with the tape holding his IV needle in his hand.

"Speed it up!" Tom demanded. He ripped the tape off himself, then roughly yanked the needle from his vein.

Booth tried not to wince. It hurt, but not enough that he wanted to give Tom the satisfaction in knowing.

He eased himself out of bed. Tom pressed the gun against his temple. "You try anything, traitor, and you're dead before you hit the ground." With that he latched on his arm with a firm hold. In that position he led Booth out into the hall.

Two steps out the door and Booth had all the answers to his questions. The hospital had been evacuated. Several dead bodies of doctors and nurses lay on the floor in puddles of blood. The agents over seeing his room lay slumped together on the ground, both dead from bullet wounds. Blood was everywhere. Apparently he'd slept through a real blood bath.

Tom led him down the hall to the elevator. As they passed by rooms Booth saw more than one elderly patient who hadn't made it out. He wanted to yell out; to reassure them. Tom's interest only laid in Booth. The patients left behind would be safe. However, he also knew anything could and would be used against him. Keeping his mouth shut was the safest option. For now.

Inside the elevator Tom punched the button for the basement. Once the doors closed he released his grip. The two men eyed each other.

"Why?" Booth found himself speaking out loud before he realized it. "Why go through all this? If you want to kill me, just do it."

Tom merely smiled like a Cheshire cat. They had one more floor left to go when without warning he turned and slammed his fist into Booth's rib cage. Booth groaned, unable to hide the searing pain he felt tearing a hole through his chest. The pain brought him straight down onto his knees. Protectively he wrapped his arms around his middle. In the back of his throat he was sure he could taste blood. His shoulders heaved as he breathed in deeply as a way to settle the pain.

"Look at you. Absolutely pathetic. I can't believe I fell for your game all these months. You're nothing." Tom kicked him with his boot. "Nothing."

Booth just grit his teeth and stared straight ahead. His own eyes threw daggers right back at him from his reflection in the elevator's shiny stainless steel.

The doors opened. In front of them lay nothing but dim light and offices that looked as though they hadn't been used in decades. No wonder Tom had staged this place for his execution. By the time anyone found them he'd be long dead and gone.

They began down the dirty marbled floor. Tom never let go of Booth. Booth never tried to resist, despite the fact that he kept having to calm his nerves from panic attacks. Anytime he felt a flare of anxiety he breathed in a deep gulp of air. Somehow it was helping him keep his wits about him. Panic would not be his friend.

It felt like the two were winding through a maze. Tom seemed to know exactly where he was going. A little too well for someone who had supposedly _just _taken the hospital hostage. Somehow he'd been there before. But how? Just how far in advance had he planned this attack?

At the end of the hall he could hear voices. More men. More torture. Booth straightened. He'd face whatever came his way. But one voice cut through all the rest. One voice that nearly made him forget his steel resolve. _Bones._

She was sitting on the floor with two of Tom's henchmen pointing guns at her. Behind her back her hands were bound. Still, she looked as radiating as she always did. And to Booth's amusement, she looked more angered than scared. _'Atta girl._

Her eyes softened when she saw him.

Tom shoved Booth over by her. All else was forgotten as Booth knelt down on the floor besides her. "Bones? You okay?"

"I'm okay," she agreed. Her physical appearance disagreed with her. A new bloody bruise had appeared on her forehead. She had marks on her hands from fighting.

It was his turn to argue with her. "No, you're not." Gently he wiped some of the blood away. When she winced his blood pressure sky rocketed with a new threat of rage. Turning his back on her, he shielded her with his body away from their captors. "Let her go." He ordered.

"What?" Tom and Brennan spoke in unison.

"You heard me," Booth persisted. "Your problem's with me, right? So what's the use in having her?"

"Collateral."

Booth shook his head. "I'm not going to run, Tom. Look," he glanced behind him at Brennan. Now she appeared to be frightened. "Let her go and take me. Do whatever you want. I don't care as long as she's safe."

Tom drew near to the both of them. "So, basically you're trading your life for hers?"

Booth nodded. "Yeah."

"That's so sweet," Tom cooed. "All right. Fine."

Booth was waiting for the fall out. The catch. To his surprise there didn't seem to be one. He meant what he said.

"Booth, I'm not leaving you," Brennan pulled his attention back.

He sat himself down besides her. "Yes, you are, Bones."

"He's going to kill you."

"I know." _You don't need to see it._

Her eyes were wide. He was defying logic and she didn't understand. "But-"

If Tom had been pleased by their show, he wasn't anymore. "Oh, just get her out of here already."

Two of his men pulled her to her feet. They walked off tugging Brennan who was fighting them with every step. Booth sadly watched her go. She probably hated him. But at least now he could be certain she would be safe. Once Tom was done with him the terror in their lives would no doubt be over.

Tom dropped down next to Booth, stirring his attention back to the present. "So," he cocked the hand gun and held it up underneath Booth's chin. "Do anything I want, huh?"

If Booth planned on getting out alive then he needed to start thinking. And fast. His time was running out.


	6. Chapter 6

Brennan was fighting her captors tooth and nail with every step. Inside she fumed. Raged. How could Booth just let her go? Turn her away? He needed her, just as she needed him. Divided they wouldn't get through this alone.

_Damn him, _she thought with tears in her eyes. Damn him for always trying to protect her. He was now fated to sacrifice himself alone. The idea of him dying in vain brought a new found strength into her body.

She simply stopped walking.

The two men skidded to a stop. They looked at each other in confusion.

"Take me back," Brennan ordered.

They stared at her, trying to decide if she was serious. Then they broke out into a round of belly laughing. "You gotta be kidding."

Brennan wasn't expecting their response. "No. I don't kid."

The two men forced her forward again. "Look, whatever your deal is, we gotta carry out Tom's orders."

Sunlight was streaming in through automatic electronic glass doors. They were getting close to the hospital's front entrance.

"There's nothing you can do anyway," the other one chimed in. "Not with what Tom's got planned for him."

Brennan's heart froze over. She struggled against the two of them, trying to get away. They walked her to the doors and threw her outside into the parking lot. Then they ran away, disappearing into the hospital the way they'd came.

Brennan landed on her chin. When she pushed herself up she saw why the two men had taken off. She found herself face to face with a whole militia of police and FBI. Most of them had their guns trained, ready for action.

"Don't shoot!" Someone yelled. "She's a hostage."

Paramedics appeared out of thin air and whisked her off into an ambulance. "I'm fine," she irritatingly assured them over and over again. Still, she was subjected to tests and treatment.

Hacker approached just as one paramedic was bandaging a cut she'd gotten on her chin from the fall. Her eyes lit up seeing him. "Andrew! What's happening?"

He sighed. "Not much, I'm afraid."

"We have to save Booth!"

"I know. But Tom refuses to communicate with us."

Exasperated, Brennan shot back, "so what are you doing?"

"Right now agents are forming a plan."

"You're wasting time!" She was inconsolable and emotional. Unlike herself. And it wasn't going unnoticed by Hacker. "These things take time, Tempe."

"We don't have it." She pulled away from the paramedic. "Andrew, they don't just want him dead. They want him to suffer. They're most likely torturing him right now!"

"I know." He still tried to soothe her. "But we have to take this carefully. Rushing in with no plan with kill him for certain."

Brennan turned her head away as a tear fell. She didn't want him seeing her emotion. Frustration.

She _had _to find a way back in.

***

"You're not quitting on me yet, traitor, are you?"

Booth had his head tilted back. He breathed rapidly in through clenched teeth. His skin was clammy. Pale. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Chains kept his hands bound behind his back.

He was in severe pain.

Tom had been performing a brutal assault to his already beaten ribs. He'd let up for a moment before striking him once again.

Booth hadn't moved. For a while he'd been able to hold off showing any signs of pain. But as the attack intensified he found himself just struggling not to groan.

Tom knelt down on his knees so his face was level with Booth's. Staring directly into his eyes, he threatened, "I'm going to make you welcome death."

Booth allowed a hardened glare. Then he cracked his forehead straight against Tom's, knocking the man backwards onto the floor.

Tom was up in an instant. "You son of a-!"

"Tom!" One of his men cut him off.

In mid air poised to strike he was made to stop. "What?" He snapped back.

"I got a surprise for you. Two, actually."

In an instant he was calmed. He turned around and eyed his friend. "What?" He asked with enthusiasm.

"Some nurse didn't escape with the rest. So I killed her. And check it out!" He held up keys. "I already tried 'em. They get into where the drugs are stored."

"Perfect," Tom turned to sneer at Booth. "What else?"

"Look who we found wandering in the halls."

Booth had closed his eyes. He tried to block out the pain. To still his racing heart beat. However he found himself gasping once again as he heard the voices around him.

"Natalie," Tom laughed. "My little sister."

"Tom." Her voice was apprehensive. "What are you doing?"

Heavy footsteps. "What's it look like I'm doing?" Pause. "What are _you _doing?"

"I smell a rat, boss."

Booth opened his eyes up just in time to see Tom lift Natalie's shirt. She had a wire taped to her. It occurred to him then that's why Natalie hadn't been in jail. She'd been working with the police attempting to redeem herself. To bring down the group that her brother had started.

"Wow. My own sister." He clicked his tongue. "You're just as bad as him." He pointed back at Booth.

"Tom, please," Natalie struggled against the man holding her. "Please. Don't."

"I'll show you mercy." He promised wistfully. Then he nodded at the man holding her.

The two disappeared into one of the empty offices. Booth heard Natalie cry out before the sound of a gun shot echoed off the walls. All then was still. She was dead.

Booth was incredulous. "You killed your own sister?"

"I can't trust her anymore. I can't have those around who I can't trust."

Booth had no words left to say. Shock, both physical and mental, had taken their hold over his body. He slumped down onto his side. His mind skipped from thought to thought. Natalie. Dead. And he was soon to follow. There wasn't any way for him to escape. He was too weak. And there were too many men for him to attempt to over throw.

"What's the matter?" Tom taunted. "Craving more ecstasy?" He turned to the man with the keys. "Go get some drugs."

"I doubt they have that here."

"No fooling. But I'm sure we can find something right up his alley."

A panic attack seized hold of Booth's heart. Having nothing left to fight with, he surrendered. If Tom got his way then none of it mattered. Booth was getting hopeless. Desperate. _God, _he prayed. _Send me a miracle here._


	7. Chapter 7

I'd just like to thank Bookwormlady for insisting Just Another Mystery wasn't done yet and inspiring me to keep going with this. Also, the brief set of lyrics I used are "Angel Standing By" by Jewel.

* * *

"Tom simply won't communicate with us, sir. Not even through his men."

"You've talked to them?"

"They keep bringing out elderly hostages that were abandoned inside. It seems they only care about Agent Booth."

Brennan squeezed her already shut eyes tighter. She really didn't want to be hearing this.

"So what's the plan, sir? Should we send a team to charge inside?"

"We risk Agent Booth's life with that plan of action. But we're running out of time and choices. Has there been any inklings of his safety?"

In other words, was he still alive? Brennan's heart sped up.

"No. We heard a single gunshot about an hour ago."

Brennan couldn't help but to gasp. Her eyes flew open. Both agents turned and gave her dirty looks. They obviously wished she wasn't there.

_I'm not leaving_, she thought, returning their glares with her own icy stare.

"The police had sent a plant inside, and there's been no communication since."

So was it Booth that had been killed, or someone else? Brennan dared to hope Booth was still alive. As hopeless as it seemed and as weak as he was Booth was still and always would be a fighter. He wouldn't just give up.

The two men, seeing as Brennan wasn't about to leave, walked away losing themselves in their conversation. It occurred to her to follow them, but she decided against it. She wasn't an agent. She wasn't police, or a paramedic. She was just someone who's partner was in danger. And if she didn't play her hand carefully she could easily be sent away without a leg to stand on. These men didn't care who she was.

Since being treated she'd just been sitting on the metal step up ledge located on the back of the ambulance. Not knowing what else to do with herself, she'd watched everything going on around her. There wasn't much to see. Seeing agents standing around seeming to be doing nothing angered her. If she could get a hold of a gun she'd sneak by them and go back inside herself.

Minutes or hours, she wasn't sure which, had passed when Hacker broke through the crowd. He made his way over to her. "They're sending a recovery team in to get him out."

"Recovery?" Brennan saw through the delicate way he was trying to form his words. "They don't think he's alive."

"No one's sure what to think, Temperance."

Brennan directed her gaze to the group forming. Men were strapped with helmets and bullet proof vests. "I'm going with," she blurted.

"What? No. It's too dangerous."

Carefully she hopped down onto the ground. "He's my partner."_ I'm not letting him down_.

Hacker sighed. There'd be no way of keeping her out and they both knew it. "At least get a vest. And be careful."

She strode over confidently to the task force. _Hold on, Booth. I'm coming_.

***

"Starting to break yet?" Tom landed another kick to Booth's rib cage.

Something beneath his skin snapped. He cried out at the flash of pain.

"Looks like you broke something," one of the men laughed.

Booth's breathing sped up. He couldn't breathe, and this time it had nothing to do with a panic attack. In his temples he could feel his heart beat race frantically. Feeling faint, he closed his eyes.

More footsteps. "I got some of the stuff, boss."

"What is this? Nothing's labeled."

"I don't know. I just grabbed."

"Well, whatever."

Booth felt something wet against his cheek. He weakly opened his eyes to find Tom's boot right next to his face.

"That's fine," he smiled down at him. "We'll just play a game of Russian roulette. It'll be fun."

Booth just looked back up at him. What else could he do?

Mere moments passed before he winced as a needle was jabbed into his arm. A cool liquid entered his veins. Blood appeared almost instantly after the needle was removed.

Not too long after Booth began to drift among a wave inside a hazy fog. He still breathed frenetically, but found himself unable to focus on much of anything.

"Ready to die, yet?" Tom taunted in his ear.

Booth wondered if he should mentally say goodbye to his loved ones. To apologize for all the wrongs he'd done. To all those he'd let down. Then he berated himself for thinking that way. No. He wouldn't do any of it. He wasn't going to die here. No matter what happened, if he had to will his heart to keep beating, it wouldn't be the end.

He wouldn't let Tom take him. No way.

***

Brennan was made to stay far behind the task force, none of whom were too happy to have her tagging along. However, it was her who was able to guide them to Booth. They'd no more entered the place before the agents began yelling for surrender. Gun fire was exchanged. Several of Tom's men slumped to the ground, dead on site. Tom himself was tackled by agents once he came to see what the commotion was about. Brennan side stepped all of them.

Now that the coast was clear she retraced her steps back to where Tom had been holding them hostage. On the way she happened to spot a body abandoned in an office. Nervously she stepped inside to get a better look. Natalie lay dead before her. Dead by a single gunshot wound to the head. Brennan felt that familiar cold prick of fear. She was saddened for Natalie, of course. But what did that mean for Booth? What had they done to him?

Back on the path, she ran the last few steps when she reached the end of the maze. Booth was precisely where she had left him. He was laying on his side sprawled out across the floor. Sporadically he quivered, his whole body shaking from the effort. His breathing was rampant.

_All through the night I'll be standing over you_

_All through the night I'll be watching over you_

"Booth!" Feeling the sensation of déjà vu, she hollered over her shoulder for help. Then she fell to her knees besides him. "Booth!" She touched his shoulder.

He didn't stir.

"What did they do to you?" Lying a few feet away from him she noticed a syringe. Her fear upgraded into terror. "Booth?"

The man before her gave no indication of hearing her. Again he shivered.

Brennan pulled him securely into her arms. "Booth, come on," she murmured in his ear. "Open your eyes."

Booth could hear her every word. But the drugs had paralyzed him. He was as limp as a rag doll, until he turned rigid from the shakes.

Brennan's voice was becoming choked with emotion. "Please. Just wake up."

He tried to speak. His lips moved, but his voice became stuck in his throat. There wasn't a single sound he could make to let her know he comprehended her. _I'm trapped inside my own body._

Her hand touched his warm cheek. His body temperature was elevated. Sweat seemed to coat most of his skin.

_And through the bad dreams I'll be right there, baby_

_Holding your hand, telling you everything's gonna be all right_

Paramedics arrived. Brennan clung to him while Booth was looked over. She was in such a state of shock that she only just barely understood what was being said.

"Pupils are constricted."

"BP's high. Not happy with his pulse, either."

"Do you know what he was given?" One of the men asked Brennan.

She shook her head no.

A stretcher appeared. Brennan was forced to let him go. If she wanted to save him she had to trust those around her to do their jobs. Suddenly a maddening fury took over. She marched straight back to where Tom and the other men were being read their rights. "What did you do to him?!" She screamed at them. "What did you give him?!"

Tom only smirked at her.

Without thinking she slammed her fist against his face. Agents were slow about reining her in. But one hit was all she needed. For now. Seeing she'd get no answers, she took up her vigilance back at Booth's side.

Paramedics were preparing him to be taken to the ambulance. He'd been laid out on the stretcher with an oxygen mask over his face. Her partner already looked on death's door. Brennan swallowed back her tears.

"Booth," she held his hand before they took him away. "Just hold on."

_Telling you, you were never anything less than beautiful_

_So don't you worry, I'm your Angel standing by_

***

**Months later**

Brennan cautiously picked a path through the cemetery grounds. The grass crunched beneath her shoes. Over night the earth had frosted. The tips of the green blades were coated with white dew, even still as the sun was shining down upon her.

She went to the correct head stone and stood still. She hadn't been to see it since the funeral. Truthfully, she had no reason to. But this was where she'd agreed to meet, even if it did seem strange to her. It only brought her back to a time she was eager to forget.

"Sorry I'm late."

Away from the head stone she turned her eyes to see Booth walking up next to her. Despite the sadness she couldn't help but to smile. He joined her, smiling back before seeming to remember where they were.

It'd been a long, painful couple of months for him. In the hospital Booth had nearly died. Thanks to Tom he'd suffered from a broken rib that had punctured straight into his lung. He'd undergone emergency surgery, then had a reaction from the anesthesia mixing with whatever drug that had been injected into his system. Doctors were still baffled over how he had pulled through.

Brennan hadn't allowed Booth to live by himself once he'd been released. During his recovery he'd lived with her at her apartment. She'd been surprised to find herself enjoying his company. Since she'd turned eighteen she'd all but lived on her own. Sure, she'd had live in boyfriends. But never just a room mate.

She also liked taking care of him. Before her eyes he grew stronger every day. Bringing her back to why he had been running late. "Did they reinstate you?"

He nodded. "I'm playing desk jockey for a few months, but then depending on what goes on they'll let me back into the field."

"At least you're back." She knew he wasn't happy to be stuck at his desk.

"Yeah," he agreed without much enthusiasm.

He turned back to the head stone, bowing his head and crossing himself. Brennan just watched him. They were standing at Natalie's grave. Booth had yet to see it. He'd missed the funeral since he'd still been lost in a coma. There was a sorrow in his eyes she hadn't seen in quite some time.

"She didn't suffer," Brennan said gently.

Booth just shook his head. He sat himself down on the ground. "I heard them do it."

She knelt down next to him. "You couldn't have done anything, Booth."

"I know." He spoke quietly. "Sometimes I'm still really angry at her, you know? And sometimes I can't help but feeling like she was trapped. Just like I was."

"She wasn't as strong as you are."

"I just wish things had turned out differently."

Brennan sat herself down, feeling awkward. Hesitantly she pulled Booth's hand into her own. Tightly she embraced it. She knew how he felt. But she was just grateful he was alive.

He looked back over at her with a lame smile. Brennan leaned her arm against his shoulder. He released her hand only to put his arm around her.

In time they'd be all right. But neither one would ever be the same

The end


End file.
